


you and i were born for better things

by arcanamagnus



Category: Transformers: Victory
Genre: Anime/Manga Fusion, Complicated Relationships, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Post-Canon, Sibling Bonding, Slice of Life, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character, and bc i want the manga ending + characters with the animeverse timescale, for like. timeline purposes, i have worldbuilding ideas and the world WILL know it, yes they're both trans deal with it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2020-10-12 21:34:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 14,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20571257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcanamagnus/pseuds/arcanamagnus
Summary: Everything is fine. Or it should be.The War is over and all Cybertronians, Autobot and Decepticon alike, can begin anew on Planet Victory, but getting started is easier for some than for others.Leozack and Lyzack are most decidedly "others".





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> in which ya girl kira continues to think too much about victory!
> 
> "knight adamant" and "two birds on a wire" could be considered canon to this one, so you might wanna read those too for some character insight

Peace didn’t taste like victory, for all that it was the name of the planet they now occupied. Lyzack felt like she should have been  _ glad _ to be granted amnesty, like her brother and so many others, but she couldn’t help the resentment — one did not live 500,000 stellar cycles on an energon supply intended for 500, isolated from loved ones and the rest of the universe and gracefully accepted when those who did it to you went "oops, my bad".

Peace tasted bland and stale, but for all her rage Lyzack couldn’t help how  _ good _ it felt to run at full power again, to have all her sensory functions online, to do loop-de-loops in the sky. She knew a continued war wouldn't give her that.

A continued war wouldn't give her many things.

Leozack had taken upon himself to decorate their new home in Planet Victory, and Lyzack had taken upon herself to spend as little time there as possible. It felt wrong. The Dark Nebula had accustomed her to being either alone or with the Empress — no, Esmeral; there was no need for professional distance anymore —, and it felt strange to be her own mech again, not beholden to the duties of a knight.

In peace Lyzack could be anything, except what she wanted to be. In her frantic search for  _ something _ , Lyzack had taken to shadowing Autobots and Decepticons both on their jobs, looking to learn a trade or a hobby, and kept as far as possible from the Esmeral. Lyzack was decidedly looking for herself, and she wouldn't lose it to a mech she more than ever couldn’t have.

Deathsaurus had commended her for her bravery and service, after the commotion in the freshly liberated Fortress had died down. It made her want to scream, but not as much as the poking and prodding by Star Saber's little human did. 

Lyzack's apprenticeship of the day was in lab technique with Braver, and that had given the little  _ thing _ the opportunity to corner her. He'd floated around her in a tiny platform and asked her a thousand questions she could barely register and cut her concentration completely. She’d started to queue up a roar in her vocaliser, but the Autobot told off the organic with a little more tact.

"I'm sorry for that. He's excited to get to know all the new mechs around," Braver smiled like he wasn't sorry at all, "Children, you know?"

"Yes,  _ children _ ." It reminded her of the Dinoforce's hatchlings, of how little Icepick wouldn't stop biting at her thrusters. She couldn’t say she liked it.

But she  _ could _ say she liked some aspects of this trade. She’d done data analysis for their understaffed medical team sometimes back in the Dark Nebula — pattern recognition was a skill imported from swordfighting. Lyzack offhand mentioned it when solving a quick chemical problem, and Braver was more than a little surprised.

He proposed scheduling a visit to Victory's own medical facilities, see how she liked the job opportunities there.

"I know how to take a mech apart, no turbulence," she joked, "Can't really say the same about putting one back together." 

"And you don't have to. We're a bit lacking in diagnostic technicians at the moment," he pointed out as he checked over her solutions, "The drones do fine, but they miss out on a lot of things. A good fencer doesn’t."

“Hm.”

* * *

The lights seemed to be down in the apartment from the outside, so Lyzack was surprised to find Leozack out and about, watching some human movie in the living room. He’d pushed the two couches together and was half hanging over the back of one, Lionbreast curled up on the seat.

He barely twitched as Lyzack came in, but she could hear an acknowledging grunt. She walked past him with one of her own, but didn’t engage. 

Leozack's take on peace was a strange mirror of Lyzack's own: a frantic search for something to do,  _ at home _ . Maybe the vorns living in a warship had left him hungry for domestic comforts, even if he'd never had them in the first place — they were warborn, “no home” had been their home for all of their early lives. Lyzack thought better to leave him to it, she had nothing constructive to offer.

She reached her bare room — Leozack hadn’t presumed to touch it besides basic furnishings — and stopped herself. What did it matter that she had nothing to add? She retraced her steps and made some space for herself on the joined couches.

"What are you watching?"

"Not sure. It was already on," he didn’t stray his gaze from it, however, "The Autobots have this thing called 'cable'. You don't have to pick what to watch, they just play whatever."

"That's cool," she internally scolded herself for not having anything better to say, "Do you think they had it on Cybertron or is it a human thing?"

"Think it's human. 'S weird, they're so much like us. I never stopped to think about it," he turned to her slightly, "The protagonist of this thing for example. Did you know other species can be transgender? Pit, I didn't even know they  _ had _ genders. Thought it was like turbofoxes and the Autobots just gave them pronouns because it made them feel real."

“You like mechanimals too much to say they aren’t ‘real’.”

“I haven’t seen mechanimals in longer than I can remember, so they aren’t real anymore," he reached to his drone, "Only pets now.”

"Oh, about pets; I met Star Saber's kid today.  _ Does _ remind me of a yapping turbopuppy."

Leozack laughed at that.

"I've met him. Smart kid. Fooled Hellbat so good I couldn’t keep a straight face when he had to explain it to Deathsaurus."

"And what happened to that, actually? I knew I didn’t like him, but  _ you _ did." She could list out all the times she told him Hellbat was a major chump, in fact, but decided to hold her tongue.

"Bad breakup a vorn or two ago. It was on and off for a long time, but I reached my limit," he made a face, but quickly perked up, "But how about your thing for Esmeral? Please tell me you cucked Emperor Featherbutt."

"I  _ didn’t _ cuck Emperor Featherbutt, you aft. I have  _ morals _ ," she flicked him, but couldn’t help but laugh, though it turned sad in the end, “I idolised her, I guess. Think the magic wore off after a while and I just held on because I had nothing else to do.”

"I get ya," he looked worn now, probably as much as Lyzack herself felt, "Sorry for taking so long to free all of you."

"Wasn’t your choice," she sighed, "Sorry for pretty much not talking to you since we moved in."

"And I'm sorry for not pushing," he took the remote and turned off the television, now playing the movie's credits, "You were restless, I was tired. Bad combination."

"I guess," Lyzack broke into a half smile, “That mean it would be a bad time to tell you to find a job? Wallowing at home  _ really _ isn’t your style.”

Leozack playfully pushed her, but couldn’t help a snicker.

“We haven’t seen each other in millennia, maybe it  _ is _ my style now.”

“That doesn’t sound very Lieutenant Commander of the Decepticons of you,” Lyzack stuck out her tongue at him, also laughing now, “How did you rise up so much in the ranks with that work ethic?”

They lost themselves in a mirth they hadn’t known in more vorns than they could remember, throwing playful jabs at each other like they did blades when they were young. And, just like that, it also eventually devolved into play-fighting. They tackled each other and grappled until they fought their way into the floor, laughing all the while.

“I really did miss you, you know?” Leozack wheezed out, crushed under Lyzack with more than a few vents blocked.

“Yeah, I missed you too, big bastard.” Lyzack slid a little off to the side to let him cycle air and changed her hold into a hug.

Leozack didn’t let it lie.

“We  _ literally _ don’t have parents.”

“Not the poiiiiint _ , _ ” she drew out, pressing her face into his shoulder.

He patted her back, snickering, and they fell into a comfortable, friendly silence for a while.

“But, like, for real, you  _ should  _ get a job.”

“Hm.”


	2. Chapter 2

Sunrises in Victory were somewhat similar to Earth's, Leozack noted, perched on the balcony. The atmosphere was slightly different, and that granted it different colours — the blue tended more to green, and the pinks were closer to overly saturated purple —, but it was overall the same, with pretty tinged white clouds and a yellow star peeking out in the horizon.  _ Cybertron _ had a yellow star — three, if you wanted to get technical —, and Leozack couldn’t help but wonder if its sunrise had looked anything like this before its displacement.

Lyzack had left a little before he woke, but left him a small note scratched on scrapmetal telling him to flex his wings a bit, complete with ridiculous cat face emoticons. He intended to humour her request, get to know the place a little — he hadn't really seen much between transporting personal items from the Thunder Arrow and avoiding any and all social contact. 

The air was pleasantly crisp on his flight sensors when he took off, no strong winds or extreme temperatures. He could probably glide if he wanted to, but decided to save it for when he was better acquainted with these skies.

The city below was integrated nicely with the planet's natural greenery, and had no high-rise buildings besides those imported from the Fortress. He took a moment to appreciate Esmeral's architectural genius in making the buildings removable — he'd definitely have kept her as an officer had he succeeded in wresting power from Deathsaurus. 

That thought lent itself to reflection over his frustrated ambitions. He and Lyzack had been made for power, born from a melting pot of sentio metallico from large airframes and what could've been a Point One Percenter spark if it hadn't been unstable enough to split, and despite all their shortcomings as Fury jet runts they intended to make good on that. Leozack had long decided to be a force to be reckoned with, and the drive to retrieve the Fortress was the final push to have him climb the ranks of Deathsaurus' platoon and seat himself as Lieutenant Commander, ready to vy for more.

But now there  _ wasn’t _ more to be had, at least not now. He’d withdrawn himself completely from the peace negotiations with the Autobots  _ precisely _ because he realised there was no place for him in actual government.

And apparently not in these skies either.

A smaller jet flew by at high speed, too close for comfort. Leozack transformed, kept aloft by his thrusters and cussed out the absolute buffoon, complete with as many rude gestures as he could remember — living with Killbison for millennia had plenty of both in his arsenal.

Unexpectedly enough, the little jet made a U-turn coming right back at Leozack and turned to robot mode in time to give him a strong push on the chest. It wasn't quite enough to throw him off balance though.

"And just what was this meant to accomplish, shrimp? You almost take a piece of my wing with ya and got the gall to come for seconds?"

The little guy — one of Star Saber's Multiforce, he noticed — gritted his teeth at him:

"You were stalling in the middle of an established flight path, Decepticreep."

"Can't a mech take a joyflight anymore? Primus."

* * *

"So we bickered for, like, five breems before Waver commed Wing to meet him in the bakery."

"And you just tagged along?" Lyzack asked blankly, mouth full of an energon pastry.

"Can't say I had anything better to do. Don't think they? Him? They? Had either," Leozack shrugged, splayed out lazily opposite to his sister.

"I literally will never understand how you  _ live _ ," she flicked a crumb at him and took another pastry, "At least these are good.

"They are! And they were, like, free and slag. Now I haven’t read any theory, but old Megatron must be rolling in his grave with the Autobots adopting his proposals," he took a pastry too, squishing it slightly until it leaked filling. Lyzack's vocaliser hissed barely contained laughter.

"You haven't missed much of anything, I assure you. Not much there that we didn’t get in less words from growing up Decepticon,” she waved her pastry around, copper sulphate crystals scattering everywhere, “Like, I suppose it has historical value or something, but it’s a special kind of dense.”

“Yeah, sure. What did you do today, though? You're not usually out before dawn."

"Played T.A. on the new combination swordfighting meditation place some ex-Con is running. Guy thinks you gotta rise with the sun," she smiled, a bit pained, "It was nice to train again. It's been a really long time, but looks like I still got it."

Leozack held himself from asking  _ why _ she hadn’t trained for so long. He’d noticed the numbers in the Fortress had dropped drastically since its banishment, most noticeably when it came to warriors. As far as he knew, for an undetermined amount of time Lyzack had been the only remaining warrior under Esmeral's command, and he didn't want to think about what happened to the others. Lyzack was running away from something for sure, but it was best she tell him in her own time.

“You should take me there sometime,” he said after he finished the last of his pastry, “I haven’t held an actual sword in way too long.”

Lyzack’s face lit up. She got in some boasting about how she’d totally kick his aft because she was the best swordswoman in the galaxy before remembering herself:

“That is, well, except for Star Saber, I guess. Would  _ love _ to get some stabbing action with him if you’re willing to pull a few strings for me.”

“Yeah, I’ll pull him in with my electromagnetic nunchaku’s chain,” he joked, “I’ve asked for  _ nothing _ in this whole peace negotiation thing, but I will ask that the Supreme Commander of the Autobot army duke it out with my sister for kicks.”

“Yes, you go and do that, loser.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you guess who lyzack was shadowing? it should be fairly easy


	3. Chapter 3

Climates on alien planets were never easy to predict, and thus Lyzack was unprepared for the torrential rains that came down a few “weeks” — Earth term more commonly used now than the Cybertronian “decaorn”, despite their inequivalence — into their stay in Victory. The relatively high chlorine gas content of the planet's atmosphere gave the rain a frightening corrosive power and it was unsafe to fly, walk or drive in these conditions, rendering her and her brother essentially homebound.

Leozack had taken to playing with streaming services this time and bothering Wingwaver through comms with his every thought about the films and series. It was interesting how that tentative friendship came to be: they had similar personalities, though Leozack's was considerably more grating and Wingwaver was considerably more eager to please, and some quality time spent not shooting at each other had them hit it off quite well. Lyzack hadn’t gotten to meet that Autobot yet, but she was glad her brother was expanding his circle.

The internship at Victory’s medical centre was in a couple “days”, and Lyzack was trying to brush up on her anatomy knowledge. She almost considered calling Fiberglass or Silkscreen, but she would see them there either way and didn’t want to interrupt any important procedures they might be doing. Medical work in the Fortress had been for far too long restricted to treating self-inflicted injuries and starvation, dismantling and siphoning the dead, and harvesting for consumption what little excess protoform its residents could still produce. Now their medic and engineer could engage in far more hopeful tasks: onlining those who'd been put into stasis, giving their young long-awaited upgrades, turning back on unessential subroutines…

Life seemed like so much more now, even stuck at home as they were. She duly noted that maybe for Leozack it was  _ less _ , but she hoped it could be a good less.

The strange monophonic human voices from the TV dwindled in volume, unexpectedly. Lyzack turned back to ask Leozack what was happening and found him with a stricken look on his face.

"Open the window. Now." Leozack said stiltedly, absolutely blank in tone.

Astroseconds after Lyzack pressed the button to the balcony, a sizzling dark blue jet flew right into their living room.

Once the shock had worn off, she saw that it’d transformed into one of her least favourite mechs ever. And that he’d left bleach tracks all over their floor.

Hellbat fluffed and rattled his plating as he jumped in place, trying to get the chlorinated rainwater off his plating. There were places where his paint had been stripped by it, and it warmed Lyzack’s spark to think of the scolding he’d get from Silkscreen when she had to fix it.

Once finished, he laughed awkwardly and wiggled his fingers in a silly little wave:

"Hello, Leader!"

Leozack was still too stunned to respond, so Lyzack took it upon herself to give the bastard a hard time. She pinched the tip of his wing and greeted him in a scathing minor second.

"And of course Lyzack too!" He giggled uncomfortably, "I can assure you I have a good reason to be here."

"Do you ever?" Leozack said as he finally gathered himself, "State your business or get out of my house."

"Of course! Of course," Hellbat waved his hand placatingly as he wrenched himself from Lyzack's grip, "We have new arrivals! Nominally  _ someone _ you'd love to see!"

"That's literally not how 'nominally' is used, but I'll bite. Who is it, loser?"

"Lovely Spacewarp! Did you miss her?"

"Alright,  _ I'll _ bite," Lyzack raised her hand in questioning, "Who's Spacewarp?"

"I'll let my dear leader fill you in on that!" Hellbat said smugly as he moved into the balcony once more, "Bye bye!"

And then he was gone, probably zooming for a repaint or whatever silly thing Hellbat did.

"Primus, I fucking hate that guy." Lyzack murmured as she closed the window, "But, really, who  _ is _ Spacewarp?"

Leozack sighed a full-body sigh, and pressed a hand to his face.

"Someone Hellbat has no business knowing about," he said as he ran it down, "But, answering your question, 'the biggest, baddest Decepticon hero ever'."

"That your description or hers?"

"All hers," he broke into a small smile, "Probably the coolest mech I've ever been with."

"Ohhh, do tell."

* * *

The sharing session was soft and lighthearted, if a little dark at times, as the two shared stories of half a million stellar cycles of past lovers. Leozack's share was much bigger, considering his choices weren’t quite as limited, but Lyzack enjoyed listening regardless. She couldn’t say she wholy approved of her brother’s taste, what with him continuously going back to Hellbat because 'he was useful and available and the silliness was kind of cute when it wasn't annoying', but the short-lived relationships he had in between seemed to have been good for him.

"I almost feel silly for not having much to tell you other than Fiberglass and Blackwidow," Lyzack laughed the best she could lying on her front in the memory foam couch, "I'm 6,675 vorns old and have dated a total of  _ two _ mechs."

"At least you dated  _ any _ . Can’t be easy to do that when you can't avoid your exes after bad breakups," Leozack grimaced, "Bad enough when you  _ do _ have a whole universe to hide in."

"Yeah, I can see  _ that _ ," she thought back to Hellbat, how he made sure to tell them someone Leozack actually had a  _ good _ relationship with had landed in Victory, "Why does he  _ do _ all of this?"

"If you mean this just now, I can only guess that it's because he  _ knows _ Spacewarp won't stay and he wants me sparkbroken and ready to make some bad decisions," Leozack simply stated, no real feeling behind it, "I know the game he plays."

Lyzack almost made a comment about him  _ loving _ to make bad decisions, but thought better of it. Leozack did say he was actually  _ done _ this time, and peace would hopefully change his need for something adrenaline-fueled and easy to fall back on - Lyzack sure hoped it'd change  _ her _ and her pining for unattainable mechs and kissing friends out of desperation. 

Primus, they sure were messes.

Leozack laughed when she said as much:

"At least we're  _ hot _ messes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fiberglass and Silkscreen are repurpused OCs, Spacewarp is imported from Unicron Trilogy (though she only appeared as a guest host on Ask Vector Prime), and Blackwidow was a cancelled Takara toy.


	4. Chapter 4

Hellbat’s visit seemed to have been the catalyst for Leozack’s entire team to decide they’d given him enough time to mope and that it was alright to bother him again.

It was good in a way. Leozack  _ was _ a social creature to the core — exemplified by how easily he latched onto the first mech outside Lyzack to talk to him since moving — and having the whole crew back was absolutely invigorating. But the concern and curiosity reminded him why he had self-isolated.

He loved them to bits, seriously, but he couldn’t help but feel  _ embarrassed _ . Leozack's whole life had been about increasing in rank in the Decepticon army, while his unit — his  _ friends _ — had other things to live for. It led to a frightening disparity in how well they dealt with this new peace.

Jallguar could finally put his cyberneticist function to good use, checking over the Fortress-dwellers who hadn’t yet been upgraded to their adult bodies for CNA defects provenient from the delay. Killbison was happily unemployed and having a great time drinking his way into the good graces of every boisterous bruiser and smiling bartender in the planet. Guyhawk had wasted no time in rekindling the flame he and Greatshot had, once he got to enact his petty revenge on him, at least. Drillhorn was working in resource management under Esmeral now, helping her in making demands in terms of allotting extra fuel and ores to underfed Decepticons.

"She's angry still. Doesn’t trust the Autobots nor the organics they mingle with, but she tries not to let it show," he mentioned when they met on the way to the spaceport, "She's ready to split should the need arise, though."

It checked out perfectly. Esmeral had been molded to serve the Quintessons, and spent half a million stellar cycles imprisoned in her own home: it figured she wouldn’t be inclined to count on the goodwill of both Autobots and earthlings. She was the one to plead for a ceasefire, yes, but that was because she was smart enough to see that they were in no condition to fight.

“How’s she doing with the little pest, though? Don’t think that was the type of kid she was expecting to raise after the war,” Leozack had the afterthought to ask. Esmeral was, after all, one giant force of love and stability who’d mentored many throughout the ages, and Solon was pretty cool as far as humans went, but one had to wonder if she had it in her to get past her distaste for organics to accept one in her life.

“What do you think we talk about in meetings? I’m a  _ strategist _ , not her personal confidant, Leozack,” Drillhorn berated him, “You sound like Hellbat, wanting to know everyone's business.”

"Well,  _ forgive me _ for caring about other mechs. Don't act like you didn't grill  _ him _ for info on me," Leozack shot back, elbowing Drillhorn's side.

"Because you locked yourself away at home, and you are my friend! There's a  _ difference _ ," Drillhorn elbowed him back, "And  _ that _ is the cargo shuttle I'm here to check on. Try not to get a transwarp blast through the spark."

* * *

Finding Spacewarp's temporary quarters involved a whole deal more talking to Autobots than Leozack had thought he could take, and all that only for her not to be there. Ringing her bell had him faced with a squadron of Mini-Cons he did not recognise, but they were helpful enough to relay notice of his visit to Spacewarp and Foldspace, so it wasn't a complete miss.

He arrived home before Lyzack, and took to browsing the duty roster Drillhorn had shoved at him earlier. Leozack had no real interest in  _ doing _ anything, but idleness was starting to chafe at his seams. There were many names he didn't recognise in the list — Autobots, presumably —, but the ones he did, even in passing, had either the most predictable or the most outlandish professions.

Lovable idiot Kakuryu had become the universal babysitter, joined by  _ Carnivac _ of all mechs, and this Leozack  _ had _ to see. He wasn’t quite as fond of children as Deathsaurus — he was  _ far _ too young to have a fatherly streak —, but he supposed he could go take a look at how the baby Dinoforce and the other younger Decepticons fared. They weren't all that much younger than him, really — differences of fifty thousand stellar cycles at most —, just behind in development.

The whooshing sound of a jet landing on the balcony interrupted his train of thought and he honest to Primus  _ prayed _ it wasn't Hellbat again. 

Thankfully, it was just Lyzack, but she seemed to be in the foulest of moods.

"You alright?" Leozack asked as she stomped inside, wings twitching. Lyzack just snarled in response before dropping face down on the couch and yelling into the foam. "Alright so that's a no."

"You think?" She spoke through gritted teeth, " _ Esmeral _ wants to see me."

He blinked both pairs of optics.

"Is that… supposed to be bad?"

"Yes! I don't wanna see her…" she trailed off into a whimper, "I don't know what to  _ do _ ."

"Do you know  _ why _ she wants to see ya all of a sudden? Maybe she's, like, upset that you dropped off the map the instant we got here," Leozack tried to rationalise, though he knew he was possibly the worst mech to ask advice from.

"You saying from experience?"

"Yes, now answer me."

"Alright, alright. She's having a practice duel with Star Saber and Deathsaurus in a week or so. Wants me to pair up with her," she sighed, hands digging into her secondary optics, "I  _ like _ fighting with Esmeral and I  _ really _ wanna whoop the big bosses' afterburners, but I don't wanna  _ talk _ ."

"I could go with you? So she won't be able to get you alone?" Leozack suggested, "Also I'm great at making a big deal of myself and being distracting."

"Ugh, I guess," Lyzack grimaced, "Almost makes me wish  _ I _ was the one with the pushy ex instead of an excessively nice crush."

"Oh, so  _ now _ Esmeral is a crush?"

"I might have been too quick to dismiss my own feelings, okay?"

Leozack huffed in amusement and patted her back. They were too alike in their flaws, even where they differed. Getting too caught up in exerting his own autonomy and ignoring any conflicting feelings until they choked him was something he was far too used to. He really had no quality advice to give, so he settled for some playful self-centred needling:

"You know, if  _ I _ developed feelings for any mech who insisted on caring about my wellbeing I would've married Drillhorn ages ago."

“You know, I think I would’ve preferred it if you  _ did _ marry him ages ago,” Lyzack responded seamlessly, lifting herself up on her elbows, “But you’re, like, allergic to stability.”

“Plenty of oxide sharks in the Rust Sea,” he shrugged, smiling. Turning around a conversation to make it about himself was a top notch skill when used for good —  _ but no one’s hiring for that _ , he thought —, and Leozack sure  _ loved _ feeling top notch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter will be an interlude of sorts, so it'll probably be out in a week or two but like, defs not another month lol


	5. interlude: cut like a jewel

Esmeral had missed warmth. The warmth of the suns, of energon in her tank, of her beloved in her arms… It was good to have that all back, though now it was a different sun —  _ singular _ —, and the well-crafted campaign she’d been helping run for millennia had become moot. She couldn’t afford to be picky, though — peace was  _ good _ , warm, and so much better than waging a war running on fumes.

"You worry too much, love," Deathsaurus whispered to her late at night, when despairing thoughts overran her processor and kept her internals whirring loudly and her tail lashing around his beastial form. He was uneasy as well, she could read it from his field, but he was tired — physically and mentally —, and his body urged him for a full night's recharge, as did her own.

She wound her body tighter around his as a wordless apology, and eventually his warmth won her over and her anxiety circuits quieted enough to let her rest.

* * *

Morning came with the feeling of wriggling tiny creatures prancing over her and around the nest. Esmeral swatted at them with her tail and snuggled further into Deathsaurus' back, used to such behaviour from the Breast Animals.

A noise of surprise had her husband shooting awake in an astrosecond, and Esmeral then had to start waking for real too.

"Good morning, son," Deathsaurus rumbled softly as he sat up, still in beast mode, dipping the nest's foam in a way that had Esmeral grasping for purchase with her wing claws.

"Good morning, Emperor! Sorry for startling you."

So it was the little organic.  _ Great _ .

Esmeral did not  _ dislike _ her husband's fleshy little adoptee, per se, but she did have… reservations. Children were children, no matter the species, and Esmeral had raised enough to know how to deal with them, but organics were strange, fickle,  _ fragile _ , and that unnerved her.

But seeing Deathsaurus so happy, so tender, brightened her spark, made her secure. She cast her doubts to the side and greeted little — so, so  _ little _ — Solon with all the love and cheer she could muster.

* * *

Flying through thick atmosphere was a feeling that Esmeral had almost forgotten. Movements had to be ampler, more exaggerated, and the air resistance was fascinatingly stimulating. The Nebula had not been the same as flying in a vacuum, but the matter hadn't been so concentrated. 

She was accompanying the removal of her fortress' buildings for placement in the city from the air, relearning to keep herself steady with calculated wing flaps and lower vents set to propulsion. The machinery was still unnaturally smooth, even after so long, and moved the structures carefully and fluidly.

The projectist within her sang with pride over such a bold design, but the rest was still so mentally  _ tired _ that all she really wanted was for the capitol to be relocated already so she could curl up in the nest and lay down for a few millennia more, by choice this time.

But her subjects — no, compatriots — came first. They always had.

The sun burned bright at her back, and so Esmeral carried on.

* * *

With energy coursing through her circuits so vigorously again, Esmeral’s hands shook with charge her body had grown unused to distributing. The urge to fight raged in her as much as the urge for it all to stop. A part of her worried that this peace would not be forever, that the rift between Autobot and Decepticon was too deep to be repaired, and that only made her jitters worse.

The plains where metal and greens lived in strange harmony beyond the city became her refuge for when the charge was too much. She’d fly and run and lay on the ground staring at the sun — both in robot and beast modes — and, on the rare occasions when Deathsaurus joined her, fight like her life depended on it.

Esmeral had a gentle nature, yes, but she was molded a warrior and no amount of time spent in an administrative position could make her forget the thrill of the hunt. The deep dents of her teeth and talons on Deathsaurus' plating — and the same of his on hers — after a satisfying tumble through the wildlands were a testament to that.

They’d take a different sort of tumble at home later, and life was sure to feel good for the rest of the day at least.

* * *

Meetings were exhausting.

Esmeral was an experienced resource manager, had been one for longer than each of the members of her new committee had even been alive, but the mere sight of some of these faces had her lost in despair.

Star Saber himself participated in these sessions, all soft smiles and words and Esmeral had to contain herself from acting rashly. Without the battle armour, Star Saber was smaller than her, and it felt  _ so easy _ to just reach out and crush his head in her hand, but at the same time that all the good sense in her maintained that this was absolutely unacceptable behaviour, her colder side reminded her that this form was a transtector and that crushing the helmet would not be enough to kill the brainmaster inside.

Drillhorn discreetly touched her side to snap her back into reality. She straightened her back and tried to focus back into Star Saber’s somewhat sensible point about housing.

* * *

“I want to fight him,” Esmeral whispered into Deathsaurus’ neck after a sparring session, both running hot from negotiations.

“It can be arranged,” he answered, hand rising to pet at her wings, “He’s too honourable to refuse. Besides, “she heard the smile in his voice, “I know you’d win.”

She leaned up with a soft laugh and nuzzled her face against his.

“Don’t I always?”

* * *

Lyzack wasn't answering her comms.

Esmeral gave it a couple days — settling in was time-consuming, after all —, then that turned into weeks, and then Esmeral couldn’t help but worry. Lyzack had been nothing if not steadfast — and diligent and caring and  _ there _ — during their exile, but the true weight of catastrophe tended to hit after it passed. 

So maybe it was time to switch things up. 

Jallguar was helping repair some logic errors in her coding when the idea came to her.

"Do you have any appointments with Lyzack coming up?" Esmeral asked him as he eased the connectors off her medical ports.

"I'm catching her up on CRT in a few days, why?"

"Could you deliver her a message for me?"


	6. Chapter 6

The Autobot Medical Centre was fascinating. Lyzack wasn't all that knowledgeable on the equipment, but everything seemed leagues above anything she’d seen before — rightly so, she  _ had _ been out of the loop for almost as long as she’d been alive. She hadn’t been to it before, having had her functions restored still in the Fortress' hospital, and it was a joy to see how excited her friends were about it.

Fiberglass ran her through the basics in a tune more upbeat than Lyzack had heard in ages. An Autobot medic named Minerva accompanied them, offering deeper insight into some of the machines and procedures, but Lyzack was almost certain that the true purpose of her presence was to keep an eye on them. Fiberglass treated her like a friend, but Lyzack had always been the sensible one out of the two of them.

Their tour ended at one of the central offices, where they were met with Braver being chased off one of the rooms by a little black and lilac mech. He waved at Lyzack for a second before his tiny assailant managed to push him all the way out the door and slammed it on his face.

“You may come in," a clearly tired voice announced from inside the office, "Thank you, Quickslinger."

Minerva balked a little, but bid Fiberglass a quick goodbye and led Lyzack by the arm into it.

Behind the desk sat a mech with the making of a mass produced Paradronian medic; she had a stern, generically beautiful face and looked like she’d rather give Lyzack the triple tap than be of any help.

“Do you seriously intend to join the ranks of our medical corps, Decepticon?” 

Lyzack just  _ stared _ , mouth open in indignation. She prepared to tell the Paradronian just where she could stick her medical corps, but Minerva got on it before she could.

“Lifeline, this is  _ not _ the time! We need all the help we can get, even if it comes from Decepticons.”

“That’s not what I’m getting at,  _ child _ ,” Lifeline hissed before turning back to Lyzack in a more controlled position, “You are a warrior build, and peace has made you redundant. You have no past job experience to fall on, so you dally around looking for something that clicks. I understand that, but I need a little more upfront commitment before beginning to train you. Everybody starts somewhere, but medicine is not something you do on a whim.”

Lyzack drummed her fingers on the desk and clicked her vocaliser. Lifeline had read her for filth, and that alone ignited that so characteristic goal-oriented fire in Lyzack. The drive that kept her alive for this long had something new to fixate on: making good on Lifeline’s challenge and actually sticking around beyond a little dabbling.

After all, what did a ‘zack like more than a challenge?

* * *

"You really let her talk like that to you?" Leozack frowned, sitting backwards on a kitchen chair.

"And that was with that Braver guy putting in a good word for me. Think it might’ve done more harm than good," Lyzack shrugged, sunken deep into the couch, "Still, I like a strong hand. Wanna make her  _ eat _ that closed fist of hers."

"I don’t think those metaphors mix."

"I don’t think they were metaphors?" She paused, "Were they? I haven't exactly been keeping up with my figures of speech."

"I haven’t either, I just thought it sounded weird," Leozack turned to the side in a short pause and sighed, “Just try and keep safe, alright?"

"I'll try my best," Lyzack replied dripping with sarcasm, after all what  _ danger _ was there in figuring out if some slagger had misconnected motor circuitry? “But do tell, how did this  _ wonderful _ day treat my dearest brother?”

Leozack groaned, digging the heels of his hands into his primary optics. "Don’t remind me. Guyhawk came over and he and Killbison are taking me out for mandatory 'fun' tonight."

Lyzack snickered into her hand —  _ oh, Leo _ —, and was met with a real actual glare from her stupid unemployed workaholic brother.

"This is not funny, Ly. I'm in the opposite of a mood to party. We're risking me crushing someone's head like an oil can here."

Lyzack's laughter grew into a cackle. Was Leozack  _ capable _ of such? Absolutely. Did he have it in him to do it outside the heat of battle? 650-vorn old Leozack certainly didn't, and Cybertronians didn’t change their spots so easily over less than ten thousand.

"Alright! Be like that," he huffed, more with his chest vents than with his mouth, "I invited Wingwaver to come with, anyway. They, like, appeal to my better nature, so maybe that could work as damage control.”

“Need a two-Autobots-in-one deal to keep ya playin’ nice, do ya?” Lyzack teased, “But I do think you could benefit from a night out with your friends.”

“Now that I think about it,” Leozack paused, “I never see  _ you _ hanging out with your friends. I know like all of the warriors except you vanished under mysterious circumstances you don’t want to tell me, but there have to be  _ some _ mechs in the civilian circles you get along with.”

That cut Lyzack’s good mood. 

“I… saw Fiberglass today,” she said almost as a question, “Silkscreen was there too, but we didn’t talk. Why are we talking about this?”

“Oh, can’t  _ I _ be worried for you as your older twin by seven kliks?” He held a hand to his chest in fake hurt before jabbing a finger in her direction. “If I have to deconstruct all the slag war made me into, then so do you.”

“I’m working on it. I have a  _ job _ .”

“You have a job because of  _ spite _ . That’s not adjusting, Lyzack,” Leozack pointed out, voice growing harsher in response to the shift in Lyzack’s tone, “You were a bit shy when we were younger and I think I get that, but this isn’t that. I don’t know what happened to make you so… I don’t even know! I dig the whole dutiful knight vibe, but something’s  _ wrong _ here.”

“There’s  _ nothing _ wrong, Leo,” Lyzack bit back, “I grew up, you didn’t. Which is rich considering I’m not even sure if all the protoform in my brain module finished settling because we were severely malnourished and lacking for parts and  _ I had to help take apart my friends, Leozack _ . I… Primus below,  _ I _ don’t even know.” Her optics had started to spark lightly, and she gritted her teeth hard as she closed them. “Can I get a break, please?”

Leozack grew quiet, like he just realised he had made a terrible mistake. A level of random beeps and vocalisations sounded from him —  _ wordless now, are you? — _ before she felt a weight settle beside her in the couch.

Lyzack opened her optics. Leozack had that orphaned cyberkitten look on his face, and Lyzack wanted to punch it out. The Leo of now really had trouble thinking of anything other than  _ himself _ , and when he didn’t he didn’t have the tact to express it properly. He’d also changed from the charismatic and bullheaded little bastard he’d been when they were young, but she didn’t have it in her to call him out now.

“I’m sor—”

“Don’t be,” she cut him off, “We’ll need to have that conversation some time, but not now. You have a hang out to be at. And I’ll be very mad if you don’t go.”

“But―”

“ _ You’re going, Leozack _ ,” she snarled, “I’ll be fine on my own, yeah?”

“I’ll— Fine,” he relented, “I’ll go. I’ll bring you a bagel or something.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice. When do you have to be off?” She softened, still upset, but completely spent.

“Not long, actually. I could go out earlier and meet Guyhawk at his place if that’d be better?”

“Yeah, you go and do that.”

The soft dialogue was awkward after that until Leozack left, and, when he did, Lyzack turned off the lights in the apartment and let herself bellow a throaty roar, digging her claws into the couch’s foam.


	7. Chapter 7

He  _ really _ shouldn’t have left Lyzack alone, Leozack’s good sense pounded in his head as his two rowdier teammates talked animatedly over him at the bar’s counter. Yes, she’d  _ asked _ him to and practically shoved him out the door, but it still ate at him. Getting knocked over the head by Killbison’s playfully shoving Guyhawk did the trick of snapping him out of it, though.

“Hey, watch it!” He snarled as he knocked Killbison back, absolutely out of patience.

“Get him another drink, Gutcruncher!” Guyhawk's hand landed heavily on his head, like he was about to force his head into his body, "Cut it with the long face, alright? Have fun, let loose, maybe throw someone through the window? You're stinking up the place with your rancid vibes."

Leozack wrinkled his nose, grimace showing a whole lot of fang. He was no fun at parties, that was  _ established _ . He might be known for his little whirlwind romances, but he was never one for the bar scene; accidentally falling in love with mechs he met through work was more his specialty. Still, he took the Grand Uprising Gutcruncher placed in front of him, taking a cautious sip. The taste was definitely better than that of the plain engex he’d been nursing since they got here, so he downed some more — might as well.

And just on cue, he got the comm from Wingwaver that they’d finally arrived.

“I’m gonna get a booth, you staying?” He had the courtesy to ask while gathering his cups.

Guyhawk grinned sardonically at him, waving him off. Killbison just looked confused. But still they took no issue with him leaving, as long as he was within sight. Mandatory fun, indeed.

Finding Wingwaver wasn’t hard — they were one of the only Autobots in the house, and the unusual colour scheme was easy to spot — and he waved to them over the small crowd toward the closest empty booth to the counter.

“Sorry for the delay, had some trouble putting myself together,” they said, looking around as they sat down across Leozack, “You’re a combiner too so I imagine you get it.”

“Yeah, no problem, I was just… It’s too lively here.” Leozack complained, a hand above his eyes. “I ain’t exactly in a good mood, but sis kicked me out and well, I didn’t exactly have anywhere else to— Do you want some engex? I only drank like a quarter of it, and really ain’t feeling drinking the rest.”

“...Sure,” Wingwaver smiled as they took the glass, “You know, I’d usually get a scolding from Blacker or Tacker for this, but, like, I’m 1,500 vorns old, I’m not a baby.”

“Yeah, that’s probably never going away. I’m over  _ 6,500 _ vorns and the Emperor still treats me like I hatched yesterday. Drives me nuts.”

And then talk about being patronised by older comrades turned to comparing the differences between growing up on Micro and on Guard, in peace and in war. Micro had never known war except for housing prisoners for their allied Autobots, while Guard had been Deathsaurus’ assigned strategy point for nearly all of his existence, war-commissioned as Leozack’s own, and thus as warlike as they came. Both were odd lives, what with Leozack being a parentless defect and Wingwaver being rare Combi-Micromasters.

“How does that work, really? Like, what are the two parts of you to each other?” Leozack asked them, thinking about his own combiner and his sister, “Are you siblings? Are you friends? Is it just random?”

Wingwaver took a long sip off Leozack’s abandoned engex before answering, “Well, it can work a lot of ways. Mach and Tackle are conjunx endura, Dash was Tacker’s student, and well, the two of me were kind of leftovers. There  _ really _ aren’t many Combi-Micromasters. It was kinda hard at first, but we learnt to get on eventually.”

“I get that. I got stuck with my flight squadron because the jet batch that got forged around the same time as me and my sister was down one and they needed to stick us somewhere. Guyhawk is an awful glitch, but so am I and he transed his gender the opposite way as me — kind of, his coding is highly customised —, so we had some common ground. Hellbat is also a glitch, but more in a doormat way and that ticked me off a whole lot until, well, until it didn’t. Ly ended up the odd one out, but she ended up going defensive forces, so no big deal.” Leozack paused, a sour taste in his mouth that was definitely not his drink. He downed the rest of his colourful Grand Uprising for good measure. “Or well, I at least  _ thought _ it was no big deal. Ain’t so sure now.”

“Explain.”

Leozack clicked his vocaliser, and prepared to unload a lot of uncomfortable slag on this unsuspecting little Autobot.

* * *

By the time Leozack was finally allowed to go back home, there was very little in the way of lighting from the apartments in the city. The same was true of his. He landed on the balcony on careful feet and made his way inside in complete silence and darkness. The colourful little drink he’d had thankfully hadn’t impaired his senses much at all, not quite as much as the weight of the night’s events.

It was uncomfortable, far too uncomfortable.

He still couldn’t tell if he’d come from a place of genuine concern or if he’d just been too eager to get rid of any suggestion that his life wasn’t  _ fine _ . He hadn’t ever felt real worry in far too long, it was hard to tell.

Leozack slumped on the couch, still careful not to make any noise, and was surprised to find claw marks sunken into the foam of it. He  _ really  _ shouldn’t have left Lyzack alone. The guilt wasn’t slow in settling in and making him feel like his spark was suffocating.

So he made a bad decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am going to give you a choice right now. do we check how lyzack is doing next? or do we check on what leozack is up to? i might write both, or i might not, but i think it's fair to give y'all a choice


	8. Chapter 8

Lyzack hadn’t slept. She hadn’t tried to, not really, but it surprised her that she didn’t inadvertently fall asleep while listening to the sounds of life around her. It was grounding, to turn her audials to the highest acuity possible and just  _ listen _ . Listen to the gentle breeze, listen to a next door neighbour tossing and turning, listen to the ambient hum of electricity and machinery, listen to unfamiliar organic creatures chittering and chattering, listen to a world alive. The Dark Nebula had too little of that, even the noises of other mechs silenced by the need to conserve energy. The stark difference reminded her that everything was over, that all her friends and acquaintances weren’t dying on her anymore. That everything was  _ fine _ . Lyzack was not fine, but it was never really about her.

She heard loud and clear when Leozack arrived, though she could tell he was trying to be stealthy. Whether because he didn’t want to bother her or because he didn’t have the bearings to face her so soon she didn’t know — or care, really; it was just another thing to listen to.

She heard the approach, the transformation, the landing, the walk-in, and then… and then he stopped. He was still there — Lyzack could  _ hear _ his systems winding down from flight —, but he was not walking to his room, in fact he was not doing  _ anything _ . Lyzack wasn’t going to go check in on him, of course, — she was still a little out of it — but it was slightly unnerving. The deep sigh that broke the almost-silence before he  _ quietly _ slumped on the sofa was also concerning. Still, Lyzack wasn’t about to hold his hand through the hardship of caring about other people.

The “silence” stretched on, and Lyzack drank up every little drop of it. The abrupt sound of another jet approaching had almost passed unnoticed, but then it approached far too much and Leozack got up and then there was the sound of transformation and of feet touching down clearly on  _ their _ balcony, and Lyzack almost fell over. The surprise grew into disgust as she finally heard  _ that voice _ .

“Hello L—” It didn’t matter that it had been interrupted clearly by Leozack’s hand slapping over his mouth, hearing  _ Hellbat _ in her home again was something else. Leozack’s harsh whisper shushing him wasn’t enough to keep the little rascal quiet, unfortunately. “Alright, that was  _ mean _ . I thought you  _ wanted _ me here.”

Leozack shushed him again, “I don’t _ want _ you here, doofus. I just…” he sighed, as if defeated, “Can you help me sleep?”

Lyzack had to mute her vocaliser to avoid shouting a huge  _ WHAT _ , and she didn’t know how to feel when Hellbat echoed the sentiment, equally baffled.

“I said I need your stupid outlier ability to put me to sleep,” Leozack whispered pointedly, and Lyzack could easily imagine the finger jabbing at Hellbat’s chest, “Not like you haven’t done that before.”

“Not like I haven’t...” Hellbat mumbled, “Did you  _ talk _ to Spacewarp?”

“I don’t see what this has to do with—”

“Sometimes I want good things for you, you’d be shocked to find out.”

"I  _ didn't _ talk to Warp, she's too busy to reconnect and I doubt she ever hits exes back,  _ unlike my sorry aft _ ."

"But did you  _ try _ ?"

" _ Yes _ ." Leozack hissed.

A heavy pause hung in the air, sounds of the night overtaking those of their frames.

"...Do you really just want me to make you fall asleep?" Hellbat's voice was soft, as if pitying, but weirdest of all was that Leozack didn't call him out on it.

"Please," he said instead, barely audible.

Lyzack dialed her audials to their lowest setting then — she didn’t want to hear  _ any _ of this — and tried her hardest to fall asleep.

* * *

Hellbat wasn’t anywhere to be seen when Lyzack practically kicked Leozack’s bedroom door open in the morning, and that was just fine by her. She didn’t lower the sword she’d brought — it wasn’t there solely to slice Hellbat’s skidplates to pieces after all — and the look on Leozack’s face when his optics calibrated enough to take it in was  _ priceless _ .

“Lyzack, what the—”

“Get your spear, we’re sparring at Drift’s in 10,” was all she gave as an explanation before subspacing the sword again and leaving. She hadn’t much intention of actually  _ talking _ — that had never done them any good when it was serious —, but battle was a language they were both well-versed in.

It was a little surprising that Leozack took next to no time to get ready to leave —  _ clean _ and smelling slightly of only sweet spritzers, thankfully —, but it was not unwelcome. What  _ was _ unwelcome was the sudden mellowness about him. Lyzack wasn’t entirely convinced Hellbat’s freaky outlier ability hadn’t done it to him.

He trailed after her silent, pensive, and looking just a tad bit concerned and Lyzack was going to  _ beat it out of him — _ in an orderly, safe manner, of course. Even if the stuffy weather as they flew to the gym bothered him — which it should, it was  _ hell _ on the turbines —, he didn’t seem to be in the mood to exaggerate his suffering as he usually would.

And it was  _ weird _ .

Lyzack set a quick space rental with Drift when they got there and Leozack didn’t even crack a bitter joke at the defector and it was just a little bit worrying — was she  _ seriously _ about to wipe the floor with her battle-hardened brother?

Fascinatingly enough, she did not. The instant the door to the training room was closed and Lyzack in stance, something shifted in Leozack. Teeth gritted, wings spread wide, Leozack came upon her with a ferocity long unseen. Lyzack responded in kind — she had the anger of vorns, the grief of the world to discount, if not the opportunity to hone it —, sword biting and  _ hungry _ .

Still, Leozack had fought a war for the 500,000 stellar cycles Lyzack had spent wasting away, so soon enough Lyzack was on her knees, electromagnetic nunchaku wrapped around her neck, bleating angry static before dropping her sword to the floor in surrender. Leozack seemed to look past her for an astrosecond too long before snapping out of it and offering her a hand up.

“We  _ really _ need to talk.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little late and a little short but here it is <3

Lyzack eyed him suspiciously, and slowly reached for his hand. What Leozack didn’t expect was for her to, in a spark pulse, yank him down onto his face on the floor.

"Oww, what was that for?" He complained, rubbing the snout of his helm.

Lyzack gave him another long stare before sighing. "You're acting real weird this morning, y'know?"

"And you've been acting weird since last night, which is why we need to talk." She just clicked at him. “Alright, fine, be like that. I just,” he sighed heavily, “I don’t want to keep hurting you for no reason.”

She clicked again, but now looked  _ guilty _ . "I  _ can't.  _ Not now. What happened to  _ you _ ?"

"What do you mean what happened to me? Can't I show  _ concern _ ? I'm not a monster, Lyzack."

"This is not about  _ concern _ , Leozack. I'm actually pretty glad you're not far enough up your own afterburners to  _ care _ about me, but something’s  _ off _ with you. You’re… soft, quiet. That’s not you.” She paused, and recalibrated her optics before staring at him dead in both pairs, "What did  _ Hellbat _ do to you?”

Oh, so was  _ that _ it? Leozack couldn’t help the incredulous laugh.  _ Hellbat? Really? _

“I am serious, Leozack,” Ly insisted, teeth gritted, “You even  _ smell  _ like him. Much less than you used to, but I was  _ pretty sure _ you two broke up on horrible terms? What  _ did _ he do to you last night?”

“What do you—”

“He’s a hypnotist and you asked him to make you  _ sleep _ .”

“ _ What _ ?” He said in a breathy laugh. “Yeah, he can make me  _ sleep _ . That’s about all he can do. He can’t  _ control  _ me.”

“Can’t he?”

“He  _ can’t _ . Pretty specific outlier power he’s got. But, if you must know, I called him in because I was feeling  _ awful _ and couldn’t sleep.” Leozack explained the best he could without really getting into the history of that. Hellbat had been helping him sleep for millennia, but Lyzack didn't have to know that, much less considering that too many of those times ended with more than just sleeping. “You could almost say I’m ‘acting strange’ because I feel bad for prodding at something I shouldn’t.”

“All… right.” Lyzack didn’t sound like it was  _ alright _ , but it seemed Leozack had managed to make his point. She sighed and rose to her feet, holding a hand out to him. “I’ll fight Star Saber with Esmeral in a week, but, as you can see, I’m really rusty. Can you train with me in the mornings till then? If you can’t, Drift doesn’t exactly get as much traffic as he hoped on the swordfighting part so… yeah.”

“No, no, I’ll help you, I literally have nothing better to do. I could use the exercise.” Leozack got up as well, leaning more on the wall than on Lyzack’s hand. He thought back to the previous night, to the idle talk Hellbat made while loading his every word with the infrasonic signal that cut into one’s consciousness. “Have you ever thought about getting therapy?"

"What, like  _ music _ therapy? With Scissorshear?"

"No, like talk therapy. Apparently the  _ Autobots _ get referrals and information on it being available, but not us."

"Of course not us," she huffed, "I'll talk it over with Lifeline, I guess. Public health policy can't keep being absolutely slag," and, just then, she visibly stopped to recalibrate, "Are... are you insinuating I need therapy?"

* * *

The ensuing argument ended up taking all the rest of their allotted time, with another round of Lyzack insisting she was  _ fine _ and  _ didn't need help _ and Leozack not getting a word in. Drift politely interrupted, a soft knock on the door, and sent them on their way — Lyzack had to get to the hospital anyway.

And Leozack was left alone again. He vowed to himself that he was  _ not _ going to call Hellbat again so soon — let them fall into their old rhythm — but the idea of Hellbat actually having a life outside their conturbated relationship was uncomfortable to him, somehow. How dare he get  _ better _ while Leozack was… he didn't even know, but  _ how dare he _ ? If Leozack was miserable,  _ everyone  _ had to be miserable. Except Lyzack. Lyzack deserved better.

And  _ Hellbat _ ? Hellbat deserved to have his neck under Leozack’s boot. Leozack would say he could die for all he cared, but that’s be… just a little bit untrue.

Hellbat’s suggestion of going to therapy wasn’t supposed to be so appealing. Had it even been a suggestion, really? Hellbat was just rambling, talking about what he was up to — as he was prone to when he had a weakened victim —, and he mentioned getting  _ help _ because he  _ at least _ had the clarity to notice living like they were was  _ unhealthy _ and  _ unsustainable. _ Yeah, right. He was probably having a crisis because his ambitions had no meaning anymore — like, well, like Leozack himself; they were  _ too alike _ in that respect. Normally that’d be where either of them caved, but Hellbat must’ve ferreted with his sneaky little bolt bat that there was an Autobot therapist he could unload his misery on instead of drowning it in Leozack’s energon and… other fluids — and he was  _ grateful _ , because if Hellbat had caved, so would he. 

Maybe something was right in this therapy business, if it could provide a patch for "coding loop of make you call ex", as Jallguar jokingly called it.

He'd make the call eventually, ask for the Autobot therapist's contact information, if he had to, but he needed space right now. It was best to have tricked Lyzack into working to make it _ publicly _ available.

He sighed, pensive, and shook his wings before transforming and flying off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter will be another interlude and as such will be up in closer to two weeks rather than the usual month


	10. interlude: love and war and love

Hellbat lounged on the little therapist's sofa-bed thingy like a pretty girl on poolside, on his front with a hand propping up his head and unquiet waving legs. It was a nice look on him, he thought, cool and casual, perfect for playfully spilling his bolts to an audience of one. It was good to have undivided attention, even if just for the hour.

Rung had asked him a question, probably. He didn't really remember it, far into his fantastic little tale as he was, but it was  _ fine _ — Rung would remind him when he finished, if it remained relevant. Hellbat was grateful — he had  _ plenty _ to say.

"And I guess that's the thing, y'know? The communal mentorship scheme on Guard for batch forgings failed  _ a lot _ of us. It could've been really good! But those of us that didn't get picked up by anyone ended up left behind and, yeah, that's why I think most of us have issues."

“Would you include yourself in that group of young mecha ‘left behind’?”

Hellbat stopped his wiggling legs, mouth open under his mask for a short moment before answering.

“I wasn’t ‘left behind’ in that way, no. It was pretty clear from the get-go that I was an outlier, so I was quickly picked up by Skybeast, Flyrazor and Magnasnarl. They're probably dead. I don’t really feel anything about it.” He looked at Rung to check for a possible reaction, but all he got was a soft reassuring presence, so he continued. “I didn’t… function as I was supposed to, in their view. Too energetic, too whiny,  _ too much _ , too little. It didn’t really help that the batches of jets older than me but younger than them  _ also _ thought I was weird. And within my own batch,  _ Guyhawk _ was always also not very nice to me, but we were assigned the same squadron at forging so I know he likes me in his own way. But, yeah, the  _ community _ treated me like a troublesome little mechanimal and my self-appointed mentors not only did  _ nothing _ about it, but also joined in, so I’m kinda relieved I don’t have to see them again even though I  _ suppose _ I do have an attachment.”

"I see." Rung wrote something down, but his voice remained calm and neutral. "Would you say you have difficulty paying attention, starting tasks or receiving instructions?"

"Maybe? I have Kōmoribreast record any important interactions I have with superiors so I can fully process them after the fact and, uh, I guess I  _ do  _ get easily sidetracked?" He held his hands together, pulling at the joints. "It's difficult for me to be still when I'm not doing spy work and I have a hard time processing sensory input if I'm not moving in some shape or other."

"Interesting. Would you be alright with taking a few surveys next week regarding that?”

"Why though?"

"You might be eligible for medication or special accommodations. Either way it would help you understand why you function the way you do, and that'd be a good first step for deconstructing harmful beliefs about yourself instilled by your upbringing."

Hellbat drew his head closer to his chest, a little uncomfortable. There was a draw to setting himself apart, to being clingy and energetic and annoying almost on purpose. Would knowing precisely  _ why _ he was different continue to empower his existing as-is or would it just allow others to suppress whatever part of him they found distasteful, like they'd done to Leozack and Lyzack?

"You would not be forced to take medication or disclose your neurotype if you do not wish to," Rung placated, "But they'd be useful options to have."

It still didn't sit well with him. He  _ had _ made himself available to work on whatever it was that kept him unhappy and self-destructive, but Hellbat refused to accept it was anything inherent to the architecture of his brain module. That tasted of Functionist molten slag, and any good Decepticon should be able to identify it on sight, and, though Hellbat was more polite than the average Decepticon, he wouldn't play an Autobot's game, so he made good use of his oddities.

"Did I tell you about Leozack yet?"

“Did you tell me— Yes, you’ve told me about Leozack many times.” Rung smiled, dry. "Why is he relevant right now?"

"I visited him last night. I know you've told me it'd be better to keep my distance, but he called and…" Hellbat laid fully on the couch, not looking at Rung. "Peacetime has been really hard on him."

“Has it not been on you?”

“It  _ has _ . I just— I guess I’m just better equipped for dealing with failure. I’m  _ used _ to things not going my way, but Leozack… He’s really not like me.” He sneaked a little glance up, and took the raised eyebrow as permission to continue. “He cares  _ so much. _ About what we think of him, about  _ other mechs _ in general. He's had trouble sleeping ever since we lost the Fortress and it's so bad he always calls me to help no matter if we're actually on good terms or not. And I always go, because I care about him. Because no one else  _ wants me _ ."

"And Leozack does?"

"Despite everything? Yeah. He might've latched onto me just because I didn't mind giving him the attention he needed, and I  _ might've _ become too much to handle along the way, but he  _ never  _ falls out of love, no matter what he says. Not with me, not with anyone else."

Rung stared at him silently for a moment, and Hellbat couldn't help but squirm under that gaze.

"I don't take advantage of it, if that's what you're thinking! Sure, it helps me not get slagged, but ever since the war ended I've only been using that for good."

"Have you?"

"I have!" He defended, sitting back up with fists clenched. "It might've been a little invasive to keep track of the mechs he dated in between rounds of me, but I like to know how he’s doing and at least now I can try and find someone who can handle him better than I can.” At this point he might as well have been pleading to himself, he realised, biting his lip behind his mask. “I think I might owe it to him, to fix whatever it is that keeps  _ him _ unhappy and self-destructive, after all the trouble I caused.”

“And what of the trouble he’s caused  _ you _ ?” Rung punctuated the question by pointing at him with his light pen. He gave Hellbat a minute to think before getting up from his chair. “Our time is up for now. Keep this in mind for next week, will you?”

Hellbat nodded, a little out of place, but still bid his cheery goodbyes with wiggling fingers. He’d succeeded after all, derailing the session to discussing his personal, solvable failures — even if it  _ did _ give him a twinge of pain — rather than letting Autobot medicine pathologise his very being. He already got enough from the  _ Decepticon _ brand of ableism.

But still, much to think about regarding the nature of his and Leozack’s relationship. He wondered how Rung’s approach might change if he eventually had both of them as — separate — patients.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case ur wondering, Rung wants to test Hellbat for ADHD, who is (reasonably) critical of what having his very being classified as "disordered" might imply
> 
> Anyway I actually do like writing Hellbat wow


	11. Chapter 11

Lyzack didn’t want to go to therapy. In fact, she didn’t even want to  _ think _ about therapy, but Leozack’s comment had given her something to hold over Lifeline’s head and to discuss with Fiberglass, Silkscreen and any other medical professionals that she wasn’t inclined to behead. Leozack was kind of right in that she’d been neglecting the few of her friends that remained.

She was almost starting to count Minerva in with them. The Autobot had been outraged that the health outreach policies for warzone survivors her former head had helped draft had been slashed in such a way. She might even reach out for Lifeline herself, which would be  _ great _ for Lyzack — she had no doubt that Lifeline would ignore her simply for being a temporary worker, and a Decepticon at that.

Still, being with friends was… nice. She should do this more often, even if only at work. Leaving things to just stew back and forth in her brain module was far from necessary, and led to nothing but a headache and a sour mood. Lyzack had, admittedly, let this happen far too much. Far too used to being an island, a beacon, a  _ knight _ . Maybe sometimes she just needed to be Lyzack.

The resentment caught up with her quick. Not just the resentment of exile or of service, but the very resentment of  _ being _ . It did not escape Lyzack that she’d been chasing unachievable expectations since the day she and her brother were forged instead of the single superpowered warrior they were meant to be, and it had always hung heavy on her head, even now.

It hammered in her brain module just how much she hated Deathsaurus for making her  _ with a purpose _ . Too many would accuse her of simply being  _ jealous _ , as if her infatuation with Esmeral had anything to do with it, but at least Leozack  _ knew _ . The joy she took in defending their vulnerable rather than demolishing hordes of Autobots had faded a couple vorns into isolation, into having nothing she could subdue to save her cohorts, but maybe she could find it again in this new function.

“So, have you identified the malfunction yet? You’ve been staring at that scanner for a while now.” The Micromaster ambulance she’d been assigned to help asked, breaking her train of thought.

“Stripped wire in the asynchronous transfer adapter,” she answered after a short pause to actually  _ look _ , “Common injury for untrained swordfighters. What is it that you said they do?”

“He’s a construction assistant! Might have gotten that injury hauling weight in root mode.” Lyzack had the urge to call him a fucking idiot for it, sour as her humour currently was, but abstained. “Should have a talk with Grapple and Hoist to keep better watch for these OSHA violations.”

All in all, at least most of the cases they were given were somewhat familiar to Lyzack, which made her feel a little better about all this. The mundane injuries of civilians living their normal lives took her back to the almost peaceful Guard she lived in when she was young, even if she’d never been on this side of such things.

* * *

She was in a much better mood when her shift ended and Minerva offered to discuss current health policy disparities over dinner. Lyzack didn’t exactly have too much to add to the discussion, but she figured that it was better than eating alone, and maybe she could bring Leozack some leftovers.

Lyzack was expecting something like that quaint little bakery Leozack visited with his Autobot friend, or maybe some fancy restaurant befitting of business conversation, but Minerva took her to a specially climatised cantina adjacent to the human relations building, right by the hospital. It confused her for a klik, but soon she saw where this was going.

At the table Minerva the robot took her to, there was a light-haired human in white clothing and half-rim glasses expecting them. They smiled when they saw them come in, and Minerva smiled back, pulling back a chair for Lyzack to sit.

“Oh, you didn’t tell me you’d bring a guest.” The human told Minerva before waving at Lyzack. “Nice to meet you, I’m the other Minerva.”

“Uh, hi?” Lyzack eloquently greeted the human half of her coworker as she took the seat.

“Minnie, this is Lyzack! She brought to my attention some irregularities on implementation of your policies and I was hoping we could help clear things up.”

“Well, I certainly hope we can.” The human Minerva bit her lip. “I’m only a consultant, but I do know the rehab programs inside and out.”

“Yeah, uh, my brother told me his communications officer found out about this veteran rehabilitation program and has enrolled in it, but, like, no one ever reached out to either me or Leozack? So I looked into it a little and it turns out that’s also the case for most of the other ‘Cons we know.” 

“Oh,” the human seemed surprised, hand raised to cover her mouth, “There was supposed to be an advertising effort, yes, but we did not presume to directly reach out to Decepticon veterans and instead let them come to us of their own accord. Do you think… that was a bad strategy?”

“We  _ do _ have a very low turnout,” robot Minerva put out, “Though I believe the current model was created assuming that direct convocations would be seen as offensive.”

Lyzack couldn’t argue with that, after all she  _ had _ snapped at Leozack for bringing it up. Still, something about all that didn’t add up.

“You say this information was publicly advertised, yes?”

“There should be posters about it on every notice board in public buildings. I’m pretty sure there is one in this cantina, if you want to check.”

“I certainly do.”

And so the little human got down from the high chair and led her to the bulletin board right by the buffet. There were many posters on it, most some kind of human language, and it took Lyzack a rather long time looking over the few in Decepticon script to notice the one the Minervas wanted to show her wasn’t among them.

“It’s the one on the lower left corner.” Robot Minerva helpfully pointed out, and so Lyzack easily made out the problem here.

“Oh Primus, it’s in fuckin’  _ Autobot script _ .”


	12. Chapter 12

It was only fair that, in an attempt to practice “healthy communication techniques”, Leozack paid a visit to Carnivac and the daycare. It still felt so slagging ironic that that ended up being Carnivac’s  _ chosen _ post, considering the way he and Leozack broke up, if one could even call it that.

This setup was a lot different than what Leozack grew up with, where freshly forged mechs were everyone's business — within their (intended) frametype, at least —, even if sometimes specific guardianship bonds were formed. Having select mechs take care of  _ all _ the kiddies was new though; presumably originated from some Autobot or human standard like cable TV was.

Leozack dusted himself off of those  _ nasty _ chlorinated compounds clouding the air today before walking into the administrative centre with wings held high. Some wimpy little Micromaster up in the front desk rang in Leozack’s demands with a tremble in their hands before hanging up with a squeaky yelp.

“You may meet Mr. Carnivac in Rec Room 5, Lieutenant Commander, Sir!”

It felt  _ good _ to be respected — or feared, rather — again, even if just for the one moment. He passingly acknowledged the secretary’s words and followed the sign directions to the room where he’d meet yet another ex he had mixed feelings on.

When he finally arrived at it, the room was dimly lit, extremely messy, and empty of anyone save for who Leozack had come to see. Carnivac righted his posture on his chair when Leozack came in, a rather forced tight-lipped smile on his face. He gestured to the other chairs in what once could’ve been called a circle.

Leozack decided to humour him. The closest chair built with heavy back kibble in mind was two seats away, and that seemed like an appropriate distance.

They sat in silence, looking at each other — Carnivac rather awkwardly, Leozack vaguely miffed — for a long minute before Leozack huffed and gave in to his past indignity.

“You left.”

Carnivac clenched his jaw even more before releasing it with a soft question. “How are they?”

“How’s who? Carnivac, I—”

“How’s  _ the kid _ ?” Carnivac asked louder, still strained.

Oh. Right.  _ That _ .

“There isn’t one,” he answered, pointed, “Which you would  _ know _ if you hadn’t cut it and ran the instant I showed you my spark.”

“It was  _ splitting _ .”

“Yes, it does that! It’s unstable, which you'd have  _ also  _ known about! It splits every couple hundred vorns and every single time it merges back in less than a quartex! And it  _ hurts _ .” Leozack was grinding his teeth now, optics overbright with emotion, “That was supposed to be my Act of Disclosure. We were halfway through a conjunx ritus and  _ you left _ .”

Carnivac looked a mix of confused and guilty. Leozack felt a twinge of sympathy before his common sense stomped on it with a heavy boot;  _ he _ was the victim here. He gave Carnivac a while to gather his thoughts, to let him toil in his regrets, and Carnivac’s voice was quiet once more when he finally gave Leozack an answer.

“I came back. But you were gone.”

Leozack narrowed his optics, unconvinced. They had been almost free agents at the time, working together with a small crew spreading Decepticon terror around the galaxy, and Carnivac had taken their  _ only _ scouting pod when he ran off. In his anger and hurt, Leozack had made their pilot stop by the nearest Decepticon stronghold and then stormed off as well. But still, he would’ve been  _ very _ easy to find had Carnivac really returned to their old ship.

And, well, had Leozack not met Spacewarp.

“I honestly thought you were trying to tell me very bluntly that you wanted to raise children with me.” Carnivac said in a breathy laugh. “And that terrified me immensely because we were both creatures of unbridled violence.”

“Yeah, I figured after a while. But you know that isn’t any better than running away because you couldn’t handle that my body being all wrong is spark-deep, right?” Leozack pointed out, “Like you understand that you managed to hurt me twice even though I never actually wanted children and still don’t, right?”

“Would it make it better if I said I went out to get advice? Because, in some way, I  _ really _ wanted to make it work for us, and we really weren’t ready as we were.”

“You could’ve  _ said that _ . And I’d have told you what I just told you right now and we’d be  _ fine _ .”

Silence fell again, the awkwardness and the regrets taking their toll.

“Or maybe I could’ve,” Leozack tried, “explained myself before showing you my spark.”

“...You probably should have,” Carnivac conceded, “But that doesn’t change that I reacted badly and hurt you.”

“It doesn’t.”

They looked at each other again, that gleam of remembrance of how they fucked up something so genuinely  _ good _ and their bodies and hands moving closer together to intertwine on the chair that still lay between them and then…

“Mr. Carnivac?” A soft voice interrupted them as the lights fully came on in the classroom. They bolted back into proper distance and Leozack cursed subvocally, not sure whether to be thankful to the juvenile beastformer or not.

“Yes, Fangkill?” Carnivac answered them, straightening his back.

“Well, I was just…”

* * *

Leozack sat perfectly still and nonthreatening until little Fangkill had her questions answered, fingers twitching against his thigh at how soft and nice Carnivac could be when he put his mind to it.  _ Which Leozack already had known _ , and had counted on when the excruciating pain of a split overtook him and he decided that disclosing the full extent of his disability might as well be a good second act. Maybe Leozack really ought to have taken notes from that first time Hellbat had seen his spark and cried about it — being too intense and upfront kind of ruined good things —, but he had sort of solved that, so he could sort of solve this.

“I’m sorry for the interruption,” Carnivac told him after Fangkill had gone, “Class will be back on in five minutes, but I would— I’d like to see you again later, so we can have a better talk, if you’re willing?”

“I— Yes, sure,” Leozack almost choked on his agreement, so quick that he got it out — he was not letting these things get away from him again, he was  _ not _ letting these things get away from him again. “I’m kind of out of a job right now, so whenever’s good for you is alright. Do you still have my comm frequency?”

“I do, yes,” Carnivac smiled shyly, hand behind his head, “I would’ve… called before, but, you know, not being on the same planet didn’t help.”

“Right,” Leozack conceded, a little awkward himself. He got up from his chair, popping his struts back into place, and extended a hand to Carnivac, “So I guess I’ll be seeing you soon?”

“I certainly hope so,” Carnivac squeezed his hand and let go soon after, “Goodbye, Leozack.”

Leozack couldn’t help but smile back while bidding his own goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a wild romantic interest appears lol


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sowwy for the long wait but here it is, chapter 13!

After a painstaking conversation about language segregation in pre-War Cybertron and the survival of those writing forms across the ages and how the average Decepticon would need to actually concentrate in order to read Autobot and the same vice-versa, Lyzack bid her goodbyes to the Minervas. It wasn’t their fault, she imagined, one was a human indoctrinated by Autobots and the other a recently given life transtector from Master, which had its own dialects; they couldn’t have imagined that printing in a single script could be harmful. But the other members of the health council that approved it?  _ They  _ would have hell to pay.

Lyzack though? Lyzack was  _ tired _ , and being back home with the wonders of cable television was much more appealing than any other entertainment she might find in the new city. Sometimes the Leozack approach to disgruntlement was valid, y’know?

She was on her second hour of mindlessly watching cartoons for human children when Leozack arrived with a bunch of bags. Lyzack perked up, peeking from over the back of the couch as her brother placed the things he brought onto the counter of their meager kitchen.

“Watcha got there?”

“Grocery store haul,” he said while stretching his back, finally free of all the weight, “You ever cooked before? I wanted to cook something.”

Self-searching through domestic activities indeed. This could be fun.

Lyzack vaulted over the couch and came up to snoop over Leozack’s shoulder at his loot. A tub of sentio metallico, a few boxes of crystals, a little chemistry kit… all very interesting and possibly above their skill level.

“I’ve done enriching before, never any real cooking though. Have you?”

“Some dabbling, nothing big,” he told her with a mischievous smile as he wandered to the other side of the counter to nab the kitchen appliances that had come with the apartment, “Done  _ plenty _ of extracting energon from dubious sources though. I think I deserve some high end cuisine.”

She supposed he did, and that she did too.

“So, what’s the plan?”

“Flambéed potassium goodies. I didn’t know if we had engex so I got some Sirian brandy, I heard it burns real good.”

Alright, that was slightly disconcerting.

“We’re setting fire to food? Like just to clarify,” Lyzack asked him, looking more thoroughly through his haul now. Yes, aside from the basics she’d accounted for already and their energon tap, they also had potassium sticks, chalcanthite and melanterite samples and that famed Sirian brandy.

“In a controlled and orderly fashion, yes. Don’t look at me like that, it’ll be fun!”

Maybe it would. Lyzack  _ could _ use some controlled indulgence in pyromania and homemade sweets.

Leozack explained that he’d gotten the idea after zooming around the city most of the afternoon and watching mechs cook in a clear-wall kitchen restaurant for several hours before he’d realised it was getting late. It was very “young Leozack” behaviour, all things considered, and Lyzack could say she was pleasantly surprised by it.

He shared the recipe he’d found with her through comms and they both left it open in a side tab in their HUDs as they went about making this thing possible. They had had tons of housing department-issued pans they’d never really used and a pair of burners with some suspicious marks of use (what had Leozack been using them for???), and they compared skillets trying to decide which was an appropriately “large, deep skillet”, as the recipe demanded, after a rather long discussion where they tried to figure out what, exactly, qualified a pan as a skillet.

They finally settled onto the second largest pan they owned, a pretty thing with a striped pink outside, and then came to another point of discussion: what, exactly, qualified as “medium heat”, culinarily speaking? Leozack was rather fond of the “whatever happens, happens” approach to that and Lyzack honestly didn’t have any good reason to stop him — this was supposed to be the  _ easy _ part: just heating up some oil and mixing in the sweet and spicy salts, they could save the actual safe procedures for the flambéeing part.

“Have you ever actually warmed oil before drinking it?” Leozack asked conversationally as he held the pan over a high flame, tilting it this way and that to test the oil’s viscosity.

“We had this one captain in the castle guard who liked to heat his with his blaster even though we were supposed to conserve energy.” Lyzack recalled, hesitantly. She supposed there was no harm in letting this breach of protocol slip now; the culprit wasn’t even alive to get punished and the measures that condemned him had been finally lifted. “I never actually tried it, I… really didn’t want to be wasteful. Suppose I could finally try it now, but it’s not really high up on my priority list.”

“It adds a lot to the taste, I gotta say. The one good thing I got from those doomers Darkwing and Dreadwind. Pass the chalcanthite and melanterite, I think this is hot enough.”

Lyzack remembered their conversation about exes well enough to recognise the pair as part of Leozack’s list of bastards to shoot on sight, but decided not to comment about it — she  _ really _ didn’t want to know exactly what “treated me like their manic pixie dream bot” entailed. She passed him the mineral samples wordlessly, and watched him clumsily stir them into the oil. Soon enough, a mouth-watering sweet smell arose from the pan.

“Potassium sticks now?” Lyzack asked him, crowding closer to sniff at the concoction and watch it bubble.

“Yeah, put them in now.” He scooted to the side to open space for her, and she dropped the mineral rods one by one in the thick syrup. “Riiight, now we just gotta let them broil I guess and then it’s party time.”

By “party time”, he most certainly meant “arson time”. Leozack passed the skillet for Lyzack to continue stirring and went to seek for the long-handled pan for the actually dangerous part of this experiment. Still, thankfully, he just set it aside along with the brandy and continued to watch Lyzack cook.

“So, what  _ were _ you up to out in the city all day?” She asked him casually, not even turning around.

The silence that followed was oddly foreboding.

“I… reconnected with an old friend. Cleared up some misunderstandings.” He finally said, something in between fondness and uncertainty colouring his voice.

A weird wave of uncertainty hit Lyzack as well.

“Was that good for you?”

Silence again.

“Yeah, yeah, I think it was. I hope it will keep on being.”

“Oh.”

She stared into the bubbling oil in the pan, just letting the gears turn in her processor. Maybe she really ought to try and open up again.

“I think we’re done with this part,” was what she said instead, “Ready for the finishing touch?”

“More than ready!” He grinned and came to stand by her in front of the second burner. He placed the pan over it and poured a frankly excessive amount of Sirian brandy in it.

“Remember you gotta warm it before igniting.”

“I’m not stupid, I know,” he grumbled, lighting the burner and skimming the pan over the fire, “How do we  _ know _ it’s warm?”

“Are you not capable of guesstimating?”

“Hmph, fine, fine.” Leozack still pouted about it though. “I think that’s hot enough, lemme just…” he paused, “Actually I have no idea how I’m going to light this.”

“You don’t—” Lyzack bit down a curse, leaving her pan on the burner to fish for something flammable. Bad thing was: this was a metal home for metal beings who were very decidedly  _ not _ flammable. “Fuck it, lemme…” In a bout of ingenuity, Lyzack bit down on one of the wires in between plates in her hand until it began sparking and held it over the pan of brandy until the fire caught  _ spectacularly _ . She  _ had _ noticed that Leozack really had poured a bit too much.

“Primus fuck!”

“By the Maker!”

“Since when do you—” they said at the same time, but time was short and the booze was  _ burning _ .

“We gotta pour that on the other pan.”

“Right.”

Leozack fumbled with the pan, trying not to get that  _ huge fire _ anywhere too close to himself and bumping on Lyzack ( _ “Hey!” _ ) in the process, but poured as much of the burning brandy into the skillet as possible.

“Uh, what do we do with the excess?” He asked sheepishly, putting the pan back on the now unlit burner and watching the tall, blue fire burn.

“It’ll burn out eventually. At least that’s what the recipe implies.”

“So we just wait?”

“I guess we do.”

“Huh.”

They continued to stare down at the twin fires, dumbfounded.

“We should probably bandage your hand while we wait.”

“...Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in case you're wondering, the recipe they tried was a robotised version of bananas foster. and you REALLY shouldn't try flambéeing when you're as much of a cooking noob as them lol
> 
> either way i am glad to be back on track w these kitties <3


End file.
